


Time Cannot Erase

by the_diggler



Category: DCU
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_diggler/pseuds/the_diggler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark goes to Bruce to deal with the after-effects of the latest Scarecrow's fear toxin. Just another Halloween in Gotham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Cannot Erase

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [BradyGirl_12's DCU Halloween challenge](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/1151703.html). The first prompt is obviously "It was a dark and stormy night," but I don't want to give away the second prompt. All I can say is, this probably isn't the kind of festive fic Halloween deserves... but maybe the fic Halloween needs? (Yes, that was a terrible joke, I know.) Unfortunately as I was going through the prompt list, my muse latched on to something and took it to a sad place :s

 

It was a dark and stormy night. And Clark was grateful for that, since it meant he didn’t have to worry about many trick-or-treaters roaming the streets while Gotham’s nastiest came out to play. Halloween had a way of drawing out Gotham’s dark side - which was darker than most - be it the criminal element or the more extreme civilian revelers. It was hard to tell the difference between them sometimes. But the weather had at least kept most of the partygoers indoors, so Superman had only to worry about Gotham’s other costumed variety.

He’d lost count of how many Jokerz he’d put away. But the hardest one to deal with had been the newest iteration of the Scarecrow. Halloween had always been the villain’s favorite night of the year – the costumed revelers at every turn truly turning the night to fright for the victims of his fear toxin. But Superman’s presence in Gotham had become expected on Halloween by now, and Scarecrow had prepared for it, lacing his toxin with Kryptonite.

There wasn’t much Clark feared anymore. But perhaps due to the enhanced strength of the toxin, he had discovered how many other emotions were closely-tied to that basic fear-state. Things like sadness, despair, grief… But he’d kept fighting through it. Like he did every day. And now he just wanted some rest.

He knew he should probably head towards the sunnier side of the world, someplace where this night was already over, let the daylight heal and recharge his body. Or at least head up to the Fortress, lie down under his solar lamps for a while. But solitude was not what he wanted right now. His heart was weary, and ached to be somewhere much closer.

Clark landed silently on the balcony outside Bruce’s bedroom, the door left open – as always – for him. He made his way slowly towards the bed, stripping off his costume – every step, every movement weighted with weariness. Slipping naked into the sheets, he pressed his face into the pillows, taking a deep breath.

It was always smell first – Bruce’s phantom scent filling his lungs with an aching familiarity. And it wasn’t long before he sensed Bruce’s presence, slinking gracefully from the shadows to join him in bed.

“Rough night?” came the whisper, brushing soft across his ear.

“Just another Halloween in Gotham,” Clark answered, just as quietly.

“Hmm,” came the non-committal reply, a sound Clark had long since learned was an open invitation to elaborate, should he want to.

He didn’t.

“I missed you tonight,” Clark whispered into the pillow.

“New Batman not covering it?”

“He does alright.” Clark shrugged. “But he’s not you.” He sighed, rolling over. “None of them will ever be you.”

For a long moment after that, there was no answer. Nothing but a slight shift in the air – a draft, a sigh – before Clark felt a soft pressure against his face. Bruce’s hands, gently cradling his jaw. Followed by Bruce’s face – his beautiful, _beautiful_ face – a pale spectre in the dark, appearing before Clark with eyes so full of emotion, for a moment Clark forgot how to breathe. And then, Bruce’s lips, infinitely soft against Clark’s own, conveying every unspoken emotion that was held in his gaze.

Bruce touched him like he was something fragile, and precious, and Clark whimpered into the kiss, collapsing onto his back with the weight of it. Bruce followed him, of course, covering him like a blanket, so light, so thin – but so safe, and secure, in a way Clark never would have felt between the sheets of his own, too empty bed.

His kisses became more needy, desperate, hands fisting into the sheets for fear of what his grip might do. But with Bruce’s moans filling his lips, low and soft in his mouth, it wasn’t long before Clark felt himself stirring to life, responding to the thorough claim of Bruce’s touch.

With an agonized groan, Clark ripped his lips away, rolling over to press himself into the sheets. And again, Bruce followed him, draping himself over Clark’s back like a blanket – a cape – familiar and comforting, and everything he needed. But as he buried his face in the pillows, Bruce’s scent grew overwhelming – his awareness of it all that more heightened now, with his eyes clenched shut. He clutched the pillow to him, thrusting helplessly against the sheets, immersed and enveloped in an onslaught of sensation as they moved together, ached together, as one.

“ _Bruce_ ,” Clark groaned, his thrusts becoming frantic. And Bruce replied with his lips, dragging slow against the back of his neck, pressing soft behind his ear.

“Let me see you,” Bruce whispered, low and close into his ear. But Clark still heard the barely restrained need in his voice, shuddering full and long at the sound of it. Nodding wordlessly, he rolled onto his back, unable to deny that voice, unable to deny his lover _anything._ And as Bruce loomed over him in the darkness, Clark reached down between them, wrapping his hand around the waiting hardness he found there.

After that, there were no more words. Only the rain, a constant stream against the windows, the distant rumble of thunder, lightning, that never quite reached the shadowed sheets. And between them, trembling gasps, shaky groans, the sound of skin on skin, and the hoarse cries of completion over the tear of Egyptian thread.

By daybreak, the storm was gone.

It was as if it had never been, not a single cloud remaining in the blue morning sky. And as the sun crept closer and closer to the bed, an aged and withered head popped cautiously through the bedroom door.

“Ah, I thought I might find you here. Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“You will be pleased to know, Scarecrow was transferred to high security holding late last night to await trial.”

“Thank you.”

The door did not close again, though, and a weighted pause entered the room, hesitant and considering.

“Clark… You know you are always welcome here, but do you not think that, in time, he would have wanted you to… move on?”

Clark said nothing, eyes still fixed on the sky, the slow crawl of sunlight through the windows.

“If the situation were reversed, surely you would have hoped he might be able to… let go?”

Clark sighed, burrowing deeper into the sheets. Deeper into that phantom scent.

Bruce? Let go?

Never.

“Is it alright if I stay a little longer?”

“Of course, Clark. Stay as long as you wish.”

“Thank you, Damian.”

Halloween was over. In some parts of the world, they would be celebrating the Day of the Dead. Clark was going to spend it right here.

  
_~ fin_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh. So hard to switch back to past tense after writing in present tense for so long :s That's what I get for going with the "It was a dark and stormy night" prompt. And the haunted Wayne Manor prompt, in case you were wondering ;p
> 
> Fun Fact: Batman Beyond was a big inspiration for this, but after rewatching Batman V Superman I realized the Day of the Dead is also the day they meet in that universe :(
> 
> Title comes from My Immortal by Evanescence.


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